


Foul is Fair

by Pale (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, F/F, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Femslash, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-04
Updated: 2010-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Pale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting in Knockturn Alley leads to something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foul is Fair

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the International Day of Femslash Challenge at hp_femsmut on LJ.
> 
> Thank you, [kelly_chambliss](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_chambliss/pseuds/kelly_chambliss), for the fantastic beta!

_Fair is foul, and foul is fair:  
Hover through the fog and filthy air._  
The Three Witches, Macbeth

-

Fog drifted through Diagon Alley in big chunks. It clung to the buildings in a most unnatural fashion, slithering between the cracks of the boarded shop windows before finally disappearing inside. Minerva suppressed all emotion as tendrils of mist crept over her shoes and curled around her legs. Where the yellow fog appeared, the Dementors weren't far away. It wouldn't do to alert them to her presence.

The store front of Twilfit and Tatting's contained the only intact window in her view. Minerva cast a quick glance. The moment their magic sensed a watcher, dust-covered mannequins began to move in endless circles. Their plastic smiles never wavered as they presented robes that had been out of fashion ten years ago. Minerva checked her reflection; her glamour was still in place. Surrounded by derelict artificial beauty, she looked even more ghastly with her warts, the scraggy grey hair, and the missing front tooth. This wasn't a beauty contest, she reprimanded herself and, leaning heavily on her cane, crept down the steps to Knockturn Alley like the fiendish hag she was supposed to be.

-

Willa had never been one for the city. The hustle and bustle that was Knockturn Alley these days made her uncomfortable. Hawkers cried out their wares at the top of their voices. Witches and wizards in tattered robes walked up and down the alley, selling food from large baskets hovering in front of them. Others had set up their cauldrons in the middle of the street and offered love potions, beauty draughts, and remedies for anything from Acromantula bites to zits. It was a common sight to see rivals in business throw hexes at one another, and cauldrons exploded at regular intervals. In open doorways and gaps between buildings, refugees from the country huddled around camp fires. The air was filthy with smoke, potion fumes, and the residue of dark magic.

Willa watched the chaos from behind an invisible barrier, waiting in line to leave the Apparition area. When it was finally her turn, a Death Eater took her wand to scan it. Willa tried to stay calm. If she had known that the Apparition area was monitored now, she'd have taken the long way to get here, through Muggle London and the no man's land of Diagon Alley.

The Death Eater returned her wand without a word, then waved her through. _Seems I haven't made the Most Wanted list yet_, she thought with grim amusement. She would have been in good company.

There were wanted posters on every wall, the faces painfully familiar. Pomona and Filius looked worn and exhausted, and there was a mean expression in their eyes that hadn't been there when Willa had last seen them. It had been more than ten years ago, but she doubted that her friends had changed like that. She'd seen Ollivander only yesterday, and he hadn't resembled the lecherous old man in his poster at all. She didn't dare look Minerva in the eye, who as the leader of the resistance not only inhabited the biggest poster, but also had an extra poster dedicated to her Animagus form. Willa looked only at the cat. She told herself that she didn't want to see a caricature of the woman she still loved, but if she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was ashamed. The broken promise to Minerva weighed heavily on her heart.

_And what am I supposed to do, Min?_ she asked bitterly as she meandered her way through the alley. _Let all the bowtruckles die?_

The whole situation was ridiculous. There were so many questions Willa couldn't answer, and here she was, trying to keep a promise that didn't make sense.

Why hadn't Minerva wanted her to join the Order, convincing her to stay in hiding with Ollivander instead? Willa's duelling skills were on a par with Pomona's, and she could have done good work with the Hippogryff battalion. Minerva's only attempt at an explanation had nonplussed her. What was so dangerous about being in love with one another? Wasn't love supposed to make you strong?

But all these questions were moot in light of hundreds of dying bowtruckles. Willa would do nearly anything for Minerva, but she couldn't let a creature suffer.

_Promises be damned!_ With angry resolve, she pushed open the door to Millicent's apothecary.

-

As Minerva entered Millicent's apothecary, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The front room was empty, and the potions on the shelves were in meticulous order. She had never seen the shop so free of clutter before. Minerva's fingers tightened around her wand. "Mistress Bulstrode," she called, doing her best to sound like an impatient customer.

There was no answer.

The door to Millicent's laboratory in the back was ajar. Pointing the tip of her wand first at the gap in the door and then at her open hand, Minerva cast a Spy Mirror Charm. A silvery shimmer appeared. It covered her palm and turned into the image of the laboratory. She could see blasted cauldrons, overturned shelves, and pieces of broken glass everywhere on the floor.

Minerva stood motionless, cold with fear. The whole Order was endangered should the Death Eaters have discovered the hidden door to the broom closet where Millicent kept the materials she collected as a spy. Minerva had to think quickly now. The tidy shop was without doubt a trap. But why had no one come to arrest her so far? They must be waiting for her to make a mistake. The situation was simple, she decided; she mustn't make one.

"Mistress Bulstrode," she called at the top of her voice, banging on the lab door with her cane. It fell open to reveal a chaos of broken things. Minerva cast a powerful detection spell while she poked at the debris, upending shelves and making as much racket as possible. "Mistress Bulstrode?"

The spell scanned the room and passed over the closet door in silence. The wards were still intact. Minerva gave a sigh of relief. Now she only had to manage to retreat without blowing her cover. Complaining in a shrill voice about neglectful shop owners, she returned to the front room.

The ringing of the shop bell didn't come as a surprise. Minerva was prepared. She slowly turned around, her wand still hidden in her sleeve, but at the ready. If she was to go down, she would go down fighting.

As she saw who had entered the apothecary, she despaired.

-

A hag was standing at Millicent's place behind the counter as Willa entered the apothecary. Willa had never seen a more exemplary specimen. From the shape of her claws to the hunchback and the missing front tooth, she matched exactly Honoria Nutcombe's description in her standard work, _Hags: How to Recognize and Reform Them_. Even the knotted cane wasn't missing. Willa was fascinated.

She must have been staring. The hag made an impatient gesture with her cane, pointing at the shelves. "What do you want?"

Willa had to be cautious. Typically, hags were dangerous only to very young children, but an angry hag was not to be trifled with. This one seemed to be upset about something. She had a panicked look in her bloodshot eyes, unpredictable like that of a cornered animal. Behind her, a door stood wide open, revealing the view of a potions lab completely in shambles.

"Bowtruckle Balm," Willa said in her deepest, most placatory voice.

"Help yourself." The hag pointed at the shelves again. She appeared to be calmer now, but the look of panic in her eyes hadn't changed. Willa moved very slowly, never letting the hag out of her sight.

The air sizzled as Willa rounded the counter. The hag's features blurred, and then Willa was looking at Minerva, who wore a stern expression on her beautiful face.

Taking two steps backwards, Willa leant against the counter for support. She was a woman with both feet on the ground and had never been prone to hallucinations or any such nonsense. That her guilty conscience should play tricks on her was ridiculous. She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to three. When she opened them again, the hag was back. Relieved, Willa turned to look at the shelves.

Bowtruckle Balm was a remedy not only for wood plague, a deadly disease that affected bowtruckles, but also a common cure for lumbago. Millicent was well-stocked with it, and Willa took several bottles. Wondering where to put the money, she noticed that the hag was gone.

From the back room, she could hear Minerva's voice calling her name.

-

The moment Willa moved between her and the shop window, Minerva dropped the glamour. She needed to talk to Willa, make her leave the apothecary and Knockturn Alley immediately. The Death Eaters could come for Minerva any time now, and Willa mustn't get involved.

Minerva hadn't anticipated Willa's reaction. Her face turned ashen under the tan, and she stumbled backwards as if in shock. Minerva longed to wrap her arms around her, to hold her and keep her safe. But she knew of the frailty of her body. Her arms would never be strong enough to protect Willa. Only magic could keep her safe, keep anyone safe. And in order to focus on her magic, Minerva had to keep her emotions at bay.

Now that Willa didn't block her from sight any more, Minerva quickly restored the glamour. She tried to make eye contact to convince Willa to listen, but Willa ignored her and browsed the shelves instead, muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

Making Willa leave turned out to be more difficult than Minerva had anticipated. Casting another Spy Mirror Charm, she retreated to the laboratory. Better to deal with the situation out of sight of the alley. She dropped her glamour again and called for the woman she desperately wished to hold in her arms -- and just as desperately wished to be gone.

-

Willa had long been resigned to the fact that she was under Minerva's spell. In the early days of their relationship, she had sometimes jested that she imagined Imperius to feel like that. It had frightened her, this complete devotion to another. No wonder romantic love was unknown to other animals; it was unnatural. The human mind had evolved into a powerful weapon, more powerful even than dragon fire, but it came with worse side effects than heartburn. Despite the pain and the grief and the anger, Willa was helpless in the face of this love, and when Minerva called, she followed.

Glass crunched under her feet as she entered the lab. Up close, the destruction looked even worse, but Willa barely registered the lakes and rivers of potions that formed an acid-coloured waterscape with upended cauldrons and shelves as islands. Her eyes were glued to Minerva, who stood in the middle of the chaos, slender and upright, no trace of a hunchback or warts.

"Brilliant glamour," Willa said, trying too hard to sound casual. She cleared her throat and added, "You have the hag down to a tee."

Minerva didn't answer. Palm inward and fingers extended, she held her left hand in front of her and looked at it with a concentrated frown. With her right, she pointed her wand at the open door. After the door had stopped moving and stood ajar, Minerva finally looked up.

"I take it you don't suffer from lumbago," she said drily.

"Wood plague has broken out among the bowtruckles, and neither Ollivander nor I are expert potion brewers. Believe me, we tried." Willa attempted to make eye contact to emphasize her point, but Minerva's gaze was once more fixed on her hand, and she merely gave a slight nod. Her aloofness was just as infuriating as ever.

Willa's pent-up rage and frustration exploded, and she shouted at her, "You may be responsible for the whole wizarding world, Min, but I'm responsible for my creatures. You can't expect me to stay in hiding when --"

Minerva's Silencio hit hard. Willa sputtered and coughed, but no sound came out. Stunned, she watched Minerva put a finger to her lips and then quickly look away again to weave a complicated pattern with her wand. A door appeared on the blank wall in front of them. It had neither knob nor handle. Minerva pressed her thumb into the keyhole, and it swung open at exactly the moment the shop bell started to ring.

-

Minerva's wand hand was shaking. She had never been so frightened in her entire life. It was ridiculous. She had faced down Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself without losing her equanimity, but the thought that something could happen to Willa was unbearable.

Stiffening her spine and turning her mind to practical things was all she could do. She moved the door back to its former position and watched the silvery image of the front room on the palm of her hand. It was reassuring to have something else but Willa to concentrate on, Willa, who was even more beautiful and vibrant than she remembered her.

Willa, with her easy smile and the devil-may-care attitude.

Willa.

Minerva wasn't angry. She knew Willa too well. Nothing in the world could have stopped her from trying to save her creatures, not even a promise to the woman she loved. Minerva couldn't help but admire her for her courage and dedication. She wanted to tell Willa this, but found herself unable to put her feelings into words. And so she said something stupid instead.

Minerva's insecurity was probably a good thing, because it made her lower her eyes and observe the Spy Mirror again. Through the reflected shop window, she could see that a half-dozen Death Eaters were about to enter the apothecary.

There was no time to talk any more. She had to act quickly now. If she didn't want to risk Willa's life in an open fight, hiding was their only option.

Minerva opened the door to the hidden closet and pushed Willa inside. Readjusting the wards, she followed her into the darkness.

-

The darkness did nothing to calm Willa. She was so angry it hurt. She needed fresh air, needed to get away from every other living creature and be by herself for a while. But here she was, in a stuffy closet, pressed against this maddening woman. She desperately needed an outlet.

Minerva was so close, Willa could feel her breasts against hers, her small firm beautiful breasts. She could smell her hair. It still smelled like grass and wild flowers, like a brisk Highland breeze. The thought that Minerva hadn't changed her haircare potion in all these years only increased Willa's anger. How could Minerva stay true to something unimportant like this while sending Willa away?

Willa was a practical woman. When she was furious or upset, she needed to do something with her hands. Having no object to fiddle with, she started to ball and unball her fists. When she brushed over Minerva's robes, the coarse tweed made her fingers tingle, bringing back memories of quick encounters between classes, of stolen kisses and excitement.

It turned her anger into something else.

Her hands began to wander and to explore. It seemed only natural.

"I'm sorry," Minerva whispered. "They won't find us here, promised. We just have to wait."

Willa stopped moving. What the hell had she been thinking? This wasn't a warded broom closet at Hogwarts, where the fantasy of being caught was just an additional thrill.

This danger was very real.

-

The cramped confines of the closet soothed Minerva. She had made her decision. Now she could do nothing but wait.

Willa was fidgeting around. Her restless hands brushed against Minerva's robes. Minerva was surprised to realise how much she enjoyed the touch. It had been so long. She wanted nothing more than to give up control and yield to temptation. To be with Willa one more time would be a dream come true.

A sudden movement of the Death Eaters on her hand jolted her back to reality. Willa's touch was a product of her anxiety, nothing more. Minerva whispered a few reassuring words, and it stopped.

The Death Eaters were searching the front room. Minerva wondered how long it would take them. "Half an hour," she whispered. "If they're thorough."

Willa's hands twitched again. They started to move in slow, suggestive circles. Minerva captured Willa's right in hers and pressed it, then pushed it down.

As Willa lifted her robes, Minerva leant back against the wall and spread her legs, giving Willa better access to her body. Not to be in charge for a while was bliss. Utter bliss.

-

The moment she touched Minerva's bare skin, Willa forgot everything around her. She caressed Minerva's stomach, then slipped two fingers into her knickers. She remembered the sensation of lace on her lips, the texture of the intricate pattern and the softness of the silk. She remembered Minerva's heat on her tongue.

The closet was too narrow for Willa to get on her knees. She decided it didn't matter. She'd make this a memorable experience for Minerva with her hands alone. "You won't forget me so easily this time," she tried to whisper, but her voice wouldn't obey. Minerva's Silencing Charm was still effective.

Pushing Minerva's knickers down, Willa's hand moved between her thighs. Her fingers ghosted over the labia, teasing, inquiring. When Minerva put her head on Willa's shoulder and pressed a kiss to her neck, Willa's fingers moved deeper. They gently massaged Minerva, spreading wetness up to her clit and moving in tiny circles.

"You shall remember me," she hissed soundlessly. Minerva may have silenced her, but she should still feel Willa's breath in her hair.

-

Willa's breath in her hair electrified Minerva; her fingers tantalized her. It was nearly too much. As Willa intensified her touch, Minerva threw her head back and bit down on her fist so as not to scream, wishing she'd cast Silencio on herself.

Ripples of pleasure rushed through her, expanding ever more, driving her higher and higher. Her legs trembled, and her toes curled. In this moment of complete abandon, she longed to see Willa's face.

Palm upwards, Minerva brought her left hand close to Willa's chin. Willa looked transparent and unreal in the silvery light that emanated from the Spy Mirror, a woman in a dream. The shadows of Death Eaters flitted over her cheeks, a sharp reminder of reality.

When, much later, the Death Eaters left the apothecary empty-handed, taking out their frustration on Millicent's potion vials, Minerva couldn't believe their luck.

-

They stood at the entrance to Diagon Alley, where the no man's land began. Knockturn Alley lay below them, a chaos of colours, smoke, and dark magic. No one noticed them, two old women holding hands.

"I'll come and see you," Minerva promised. "As soon as I found out what happened to Millicent." _And saved her_, she didn't need to add. Willa understood.

Minerva pressed Willa's hand one last time before she turned to go. She had restored her glamour, but there was something odd about it. She seemed to glow from the inside, a glow that transcended the distinct features of the hag. Willa wondered if she was the only one who could see it. Maybe Minerva had been right all along, and their love was indeed a dangerous risk.

Willa wanted to hold her back, but Minerva was already gone. Her footsteps echoed off the cobblestones as she walked along the deserted Diagon Alley. Chunks of yellow fog appeared and began to obscure her from view. The footsteps slowly receded.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Willa watched Minerva drift away with the fog.


End file.
